Those Post Apocalyptic Cadet Blues
by Panzerfaust 150
Summary: A fateful September day as seen from an ROTC Cadet in Richmond VA.
1. Sunny Day of Infamy

Ok, who the hell am I, and what are me and a few of my battle buddies doing in full battle rattle in the back of a minivan two weeks after it all went pear shaped?

That's going to take a little explaining.

Up until two weeks ago, I was MS3 Sam Weiss, Junior at Virginia Dominion University (Majoring in History with a minor in Poly Sci for those that care) in sunny Richmond, VA. I was also a ROTC Cadet with Cavalier Company, Ram Battalion of the 1st ROTC Brigade. Now? Now I am just a scared 21 year old kid with several other scared twenty somethings driving north to find out about our families. But hey, in our BDUs, LBE and Kevlar, not to mention loaded weapons we look like the Army? Right? Probably do a decent impersonation if nobody looks too close.

But I am getting ahead of myself…you wanna know who the rest of us are, and how we found ourselves alone on I-95 tear-assing north _TOWARDS_ DC (yeah, the one somebody nuked to hell and gone) in some madcap effort to try and find our loved ones that will probably manage to get us all killed? I'll bet you did. Hey, I need to know myself. It's crazy, I play Twilight: 2000, I didn't think I'd be living it. Especially after Mr. Ivan said "uncle" in the wake of the 50 year socio-political throwdown we call the cold war. Again, I am so digressing here, right?

It all starts that sunny day in September two weeks ago. Do I have to say the damn date? Ok, it was the 20th. A favorite fictional villain of mine once said "Days of Infamy are always when the weather is bright and beautiful, people are so busy looking up, and they don't see the dagger coming for their back." Yeah, it was just that kind of day. The sun was out and not a cloud in the sky. It was pretty balmy for early fall, I remember seeing folks in shorts and tees. Considering what came next…perhaps that was a tragic oversight.

I was just leaving the Registrar's office at Lee-Jackson Hall, something about needing an overtally for a class they hadn't mentioned needed it when I friggin registered for it the first time, oh, did I mention I needed it to graduate? Yeah, nice weather out, and no classes till 2PM, when I had to change into BDUs and LBE and go run around Shockoe Bottom Park and scream "bang" along with the rest of the Company. It was lab day. Thing was, I was looking forward to it. I liked getting out in the field, most soldiers, and would-be-soldiers do.

I had to, of course, run some errands and grab my spare BDUs from the cleaners, they did a better job of starching them then I did. Hey, it was worth the money. I was thinking about my paper topic for Medieval Russian History and thinking the Boyars of Muscovy might be fun. _Might mean a trip over to University of Petersburg, but what the hey? I had a few favors owed me and from what I heard round the flagpole, nobody's social life in the company was all that fired up these days. Too early in the semester really._ As for me, I was the happy perennial bachelor.

I trotted into my dorm room and waved jauntily to my roomie, Thom. He was ex-navy and had a lot of good advice. And he was a hell of a nice guy. He had a steady girlfriend over at the Medical School and he was in the process of getting an apartment closer to her, so the room was kinda a mess. As I grabbed my gear out of my closet, Thom turns to me with a weird look on his face. He was gripping a letter tightly.

"Hey, Sam, you get any weird heads up from your ROTC instructors?"

"No Thom, why?" It was a weird question, it was then I got a look at the letter, it was typed on official Department of the Navy stationary. Uh-Oh.

"You get recalled?"

Thom sat down on the bed to his left with a thump. The pillows shook a bit and he had a pained look. "Yeah, ten days from today I gotta report to Little Creek. I told Darla I was done with the Navy, with the teams. Shit!" With that, he turned, crumpled the letter and threw it in disgust.

_So that's why his Arabic was so good. I guess OJT as a Navy SEAL will do that._ Thom had never talked about his time in the Navy. From his average build and looks, as well as his taste in eyewear (military issue horn rims, popularly called "Birth Control Devices" or BCDs for short), I figured him for an Signals Intelligence guy. Guess I was wrong, good thing I was a friend, eh?

"When do you have to report?" I asked.

"Five days from receipt of the letter. Sounds like we may be gearing up to get involved in the Siberian mess. Fucking Siberia. Cold and wet all the damn time."

The news coming out of that part of the world wasn't good. China was asserting old claims against Russia, and demographics were backing her up, there were more Chinese than Russians in the areas she was claiming. Both sides were mobilizing, and there had been "shooting incidents" that had resembled full on battles to observers like me, I knew the Russian Army was well, shit. They had one viable alternative: go nuclear, from the start. We of course, were on the side of the Russians. The Chinese, in response, had stepped up aid to North Korea and Kim Jong Il had increased his own army's readiness on the DMZ in Korea. I had a couple of friends there from the last graduated class.

I turned to Thom. "Shit man, you really think things are going to get out of hand?"

"Why the hell not, Sam? We're neck deep in the mideast, and Russia knows she can't stop the PLA conventionally. FUBAR is a mild way to describe it."

A chill ran through me as I contemplated that. _Armageddon unbidden. Baruch Hashem, please don't let us be that dumb._

It was then that I noticed that I was running a few minutes late to catch the van from the military science building to Shockoe Bottom park.

"Thom, hate to cut this short, I gotta run. Look, we'll talk more when I get back, at worst, we'll send you off proper at Smiles. OK?"

I threw on my BDU tunic, hastily buttoned it and threw on my cap and threw my LBE over my shoulder, running out the door as I did. I was running like a madman, nearly taking out several co-eds and getting cries of "jerk" and "watch it gomer pyle" in my wake. _Fuck 'em if they can't take a joke. _I thought. Funny how I'd come to regret that a mite later.

I arrived at the military science building and its non-descript white row house façade within minutes. Master Sergeant Admunson was waiting on the landing outside with an angry scowl on his face, a normal condition for him, as least as far as most of us cadets were concerned.

"WEISS, GET THE FUCK OVER HERE!" he bellowed. Some of the co-eds across the street dropped their books in startled shock. Nobody told Sergeant Admunson he didn't have "command presence".

I came over at a run and assumed the at ease position. I knew I was in for it.

"Weiss" he said, after toning the voice down from a crashing roar to a low rumble "What is a dead second lieutenant worth?"

I looked at him quizzically.

"Not a goddamn thing! I saw you tear ass across Main Street without even looking at traffic. God fucking dammit, Weiss, you almost caused a two-car pileup. You got a deathwish?"

"No, Master Sergeant"

"I beg to differ, Weiss. I want to talk to you about that last FTX. Weiss, you act as if you have more to prove than anyone. You know what, you don't. I don't need any dead cadets on my hands because you get yourself in over your head. Cool it. And that is an order. Now get inside and get squared away before Major Bordon sees you like this."

"Yes, Master Sergeant" and I hauled ass inside the building.


	2. Bomb Shelter Bonding

As I opened the door to the Military Science building, I reflected on my fast-approaching Advanced Camp date at the end of the year. June seems like a long way off, but it isn't. I was nervous, and well, my GPA wasn't stellar, I was really sweating getting into that intelligence billet I wanted. Bet all that's a load of soyashit now, neh?

As I sauntered in, I saw two other MS3s sitting on the couch waiting for us slowpokes to tottle in and get our collective shit together. Cadet Chen was reading her way through _Armor_ magazine with barely concealed jealousy. Mary Chen had a model's good looks (and did modeling gigs as a sideline), a damn good brain and the misfortune to be born into a family of three girls and no boys. Her dad was a career Marine NCO who had intended for Mary to go to med school. Mary agreed, but figured why not have Uncle Sugar pay the tab? Good idea if you ask me. Hell, Uncle was paying half my bills on scholarship too.

To her left was Cadet Jake Lester, he was something of a dark-haired "loveable rogue". Always in trouble, and always just short of sending Major Bordon into cardiac arrest with his latest doings. I will not regale you, dear reader, with the petty larceny he pulled getting us Gortex rain gear instead of the crappy ass issue ponchos. Let's just say there is a National Guard supply sergeant who is explaining how some ROTC cadet got one over on him. I am smarter, I just don't play poker with the SOB.

I smiled and sat down on the couch between them

"Huah guys, what's new?"

"Not much Weiss, gotta read this article for Military Science, that paper topic on Airland Operations?"

I cringed, Chen being nervous about a paper topic, well, I'd explain it to her, I'm such a geek, I have a copy of FM 100-5 in my dorm room. I have cribbed that thing for more A's in Military Science...but hey, I need to get on with things.

As I reached over to the magazine rack in front of the bay window and grabbed a copy of _Infantry_, the room lit up in a chalky white brilliance, I snapped my eyes shut and jumped behind the couch, dragging both cadets behind the couch with me by the scruff of their necks, seconds before the damn window blew in.

"What the fuck? Weiss, hey!"

"What the hell, is that a fucking nuke-"

"Dear god!"

I waited behind the couch to make sure that I was still around, the damn things seemed close, and did I say "things plural?" Yeah, I did, it was like one flashbulb right after another, three in total. The last one blew the damn windows in! We were showered in glass, with Ameilla, the office manager screaming to Jesus or whoever else was listening. Sergeant Admunson was screaming he was blind. He couldn't see and blindly staggered to his office, tripping over his TA-50 gear.

As soon as the light died down, and the sound started to fade, I got up slow, motioning Chen and Lester to stay down. I stepped out the door, now off its hinges. Car alarms were sounding everywhere, and I didn't see an intact window for miles. I looked to my left, to the north and saw a chilling sight. A pair of mushroom clouds. They were far off, far enough off to make me wonder how in hell they had affected us, it was then I noticed the closer one to the northwest. _Dear god, DC, Baltimore and Norfolk it looks like_.

We maybe had minutes before it all hit the goddamn fan. Somebody had to restore some kind of order, and fast, and frankly, all we had were dummy training rifles that we called "Rubber Duckies", the real damn weapons were at U-Pete in the Battalion Arms room.

Major Bordon came downstairs with an ugly gash in his head. He surveyed the scene.

"Weiss, Lester, Chen, grab rubber duckies and bayonets and start looking useful till somebody relieves you, if they ever do. Draw whatever MOPP gear we have in the basement. I'll be sending MS4s and the other 3s out to relieve you as they come in. And more important, we'll have real weapons and ammo for you before the end of the day. He craned his head upstairs "Captain Criese, soon as you can, get down to UPete and draw weapons and ammo for the company, as well as more MOPP and Radiac gear, pronto!"

Captain Criese came downstairs looking like a Martian, he was wearing issue MOPP gear, mask, suit, gloves and booties. The Remington 870 shotgun sure as hell wasn't issue. I was glad he had it. I suspected the days of the easy drive to Petersburg had died with the bombs.

For the next few hours, we retreated to the basement, sure, our 50s era Giger counter (still worked by god!) was saying the rad level was low, I don't think Major Bordon was in any mood to send us out there without MOPP gear, as it was, the stuff we had was good for training purposes, but in this kind of enviornment? Let's say you'd be better off stark naked. So, he recinded his earlier order and had us all retreat to the basement. So, the 12 of us, (Myself, Chen and Lester, Major Bordon, Amelia, Sergeant Admunson, and MS4s Hamblin, Ross, Marks, Kiplinger and Horrocks) got down there as fast as we could, with Hamblin carrying Sergeant Admunson.

Sergeant Admunson was quieter now..he was groping around for something...I think mostly just to see something. It was horrible to see a guy who had been the focal point of our simultanious hopes and fears be laid low like that. Near as we could tell, he'd caught a faceful of the window blowing in. Not only that, but he might have been flash-blinded. His face was wrapped tight with bandages and Ameilla kept him as calm as she could, but his old, craggy face had been turned into a pulpy, hamburger-like mess.

I looked to Major Bordon. "Sir, what the hell happened? The Russians? The Chinese? Osama?"

Major Bordon turned to me, "Weiss, does it matter? It's happened, right now, millions are dead or dying, and if Captain Criese doesn't get back here soon, then we might be next...jesus, where is he?"

Hamblin looked at us all, "Guys, now would be a good time for a prayer. Anybody wanna join me?"

The chorus of "yeses" was whispered, but emphatic.

Hamblin looked us all over, the fear in his eyes reflected in our own. "Lord, for whatever reason, you have spared us. For that alone, we are thankful. But lord, please protect our loved ones and give us the strength to persevere, come what may, and may we all come togther in this time of need as Americans, and as your children, Amen."

A chorus of louder "Amens" rang out, with a a whispered "Baruch Hashem" from me.

Hamblin turned to me "Anything to add, Weiss?"

I shook my head "God and I aren't on the best terms Ham, 'tlll recently, I thought he'd stopped taking my calls!"

We all had a laugh at that.

It was one of the few we had that night in that basement...that long, lonely night.


	3. First Patrol

It was music to our ears the next morning as we heard the low whine of the duce and a half pull up in front of the military science building with our weapons and ammo. It was a cold brisk morning, and other than us, it was quiet..but not that nice quiet you get early in the morning. No, this was an ugly quiet, no birds were singing, no crunch of footsteps across campus. Nothing but the idling engine of the duce and a half and the dark red glow of our hooded flashlights as we unloaded the truck and drew our weapons.

As we drew our weapons, Captain Criese handed us a typewritten, mimeographed sheet that brought back memories of grade school. My older brother got me into studying the cold war; it was to me, a historical curiosity. I never thought this day would come. God, I wonder if he even was listening.

As I took my M-16, and half-mindedly rattled off my serial number, I thought about just how totally fucked things were. We weren't supposed to be doing this. In case of war, the MS4s were to be direct commissioned, us 3s sent to OCS and the 1s and 2s given the option to enlist. But, then again, noone had seriously given thought to what might happen to us in a "bolt from the blue" sitrep like this.

Chen drew her weapon and ammunition, and we both stood around, looking at each other and ourselves sheepishly. For the first time, we each had a full basic load of live ammunition, it was insane. But then, nothing seemed right that day.

Hamblin came out from the truck, lugging a SAW with an assault pack of 200 round and bellowed:

"LOCK AND LOAD! KEEP THE SAFETIES ON, READ THE ROES!"

I looked down at the mimeographed sheet I'd been handed earlier. It'd had crumpled unconsciously in my concern. Hell, I was damn near panicked at this point. _Come on, Weiss, focus. It's go time._ I got control, and read the unthinkable:

Rules of Engagement and SITREP, Cavalier Company

All weapons are to be locked and loaded at all times,

but with the safety on. Safeties are only to be released and

weapons to be discharged on order of a superior or to protect

your own life and/or the lives of your fellow cadets/cadre.

2. Any situation where you must use deadly force, you must first warn the person(s)

involved that you are prepared to use deadly force and will engage if necessary.

3. No cadet will travel without LBE, Helmet, Personal Weapon and

will not travel in groups of less than two.

Good luck, and god willing, we're all going to get through this.

MAJ Bordon, USA, INF

Ross waved us over "Take a knee, people, here's the drill, we're going to send patrols out in a few. We'll be going out in fireteam strength and our orders are to keep folks calm, keep them off the streets, and supplement the cops. We DON'T make arrests. If we find someone looting, raping or killing, we warn them to stop, if they don't, we fire in the air, if they don't, then we shoot to kill. If they surrender, we hold them there until the PD comes to pick them up. I'll be leading Alpha Team with Hamblin, Chen and Weiss. Cadet Captain Kiplinger will be leading Bravo with Lester, Marks and Horrocks. Draw a radio for each team, and keep your cells handy. So far, they're working, but reception sucks hard. Weiss, you read about this shit, anything to add?"

I shook my head. _What the hell could I say? Nothing in those books prepared one for the reality of having to potentially lock and load on folks I would have been in class with a week ago._

"Alright, patrols go out in five, and people, fix your bayonets. Might deter trouble."

So, there we were, in light order with loaded rifles and fixed bayonets setting out into the morning fog of a shattered America. Whatever happened, I knew nothing was going to be the same.

As we set out, I shifted my LBE to be more comfortable and watched my sector. So far, things were quiet, the silence only being broken by Hamblin checking in on the radio. Reception was lousy, and limited to line of sight. Windows had broken all over campus from the reflected shock wave from hundreds of miles away. The broken glass crunched under our boots. It was the first sign as we entered campus proper that this just wasn't a normal day.

Soon, we saw people, a few at first, looking at us furtively from behind shattered windows. We soon made our way down Main Street towards the dorms. Our patrol route was to take us to the dorms, where we'd set up an OP/LP and then patrol towards the dining center, where we'd meet Bravo and assume control of the food supply on campus and keep it from being looted. _Try to at any rate._ None of us said a word, what was there to say. We were the only ones on the streets, there were sirens and shots in the distance, word was there were riots in Shockoe Bottom, and the cops were losing. If things came our way, well, there wasn't enough ammo in the world to hold off the angry mobs from there.

But, this time, the patrol was uneventful, and we met the campus Emergency Services Director at the dining hall. He was a portly little man named Nordyke. I'll never forget, as chilly as things were, he was sweating like it was 95 outside. He never seemed to be without his handkerchief, dabbing the sweat from his bald head.

"Gentlemen" licking his lips "Uh, we're going to padlock the dining hall until we can find enough employees willing to help us distribute the food on a rationed basis. What I need from the military science department is for you cadets to provide security for the distribution."

We didn't have enough to accomplish that mission; the dining hall was huge, it could seat a thousand students at once, with six or seven ways in. Even in the best of times, students pilfered food almost at will. And now, this idiot wanted us to secure it? Uh yeah.

God, were we fucked.


End file.
